


I can't swim

by SarazelSwift



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Car Accidents, Detective, Drowning, Hospitals, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, dispatcher - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarazelSwift/pseuds/SarazelSwift
Summary: Takashi Shirogane is a well respected and hard working detective under Robbery and Homicide. Due to a previous injury, making him currently unfit to work in the field, Shiro decides to work in dispatch. As he's grown accustomed to working in the field, the desk job is a strain. This strain worsens with one phone call.





	I can't swim

**Author's Note:**

> In this au- the VLD cast is thrown into a modern day-police type alternate universe in which they all take on a bunch of fun roles (That i've decided bwahahaha)  
> I do apologize if I failed to flag anything, or if the wording of the dispatch sequence is... rough. This is my first police type drama? Story? *Shrug* dunno. ENJOY!

             Shiro leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His shift was nearly up. It was a good thing. The incessant ringing of the dispatch office was giving him a migraine. Aside from the pressure against the back of his eyes, his shoulder ached. He sat forward and massaged in little circles against it. Two weeks prior he had been shot, landing him behind a desk. The doctors weren’t able to extract all of the bullet fragments. He ground his teeth together and glanced about the room. They landed on Katie Holt, or Pidge as she had often introduced herself. Her round glasses eerily reflected back the light of the computer screen. She was diligently working at transcribing her previous call. She was an intelligent woman, her entire family was. Pidge could have any job she wanted, however it was next to him she sat. He had to remind himself that like her, he chose to be here. Dispatch put him as close as he could get to the field work he had come to know.

             Keith didn’t appreciate his stubbornness on the matter however. His eyes flicked down from the red-headed Pidge beside him to the framed picture beside his computer screen. It was a picture from their engagement photo shoot. His arms had been wrapped around Keith’s midsection as he rested his head on his fiancé’s shoulder. A desk warming present from Pidge. His phone rang, earning his attention.

             “911 dispatch, what is your emergency?” He spoke coolly, the words like a script. Shiro fingers smoothed over the top of the keys, ready to work. “I-I need help!” A raspy, male voice choked. Shiro furrowed his brow. “I’m here to help. What’s your emergency?” He pressed again, attempting to push his calm disposition through the phone. Sometimes people became terrified, so much so that they weren’t of any real help to the dispatchers. He tried to avoid it. “My car-“ The man coughed, “My car went off the road. It’s sinking!” Shiro froze. Listening to the rushing of water in the background of the call chilled him. “Sir, are you in the vehicle? Is there anyone with you.”  
“I’m the only one.” He sounded with another sputtering response. “I can’t swim.”

“Where are you, sir?”

“Highway four.”

“Highway four and-?”

“The bridge.” The man stammered, “I was on my way to pick up my fiancé fro-from work. Please help!”

             Shiro stopped typing, his eyes wide on the screen before him. The man’s voice was familiar. Too familiar, he clenched his jaw shut in an attempt to remain calm. “Hold on,” He switched the line to a nearby unit. “Unit 16-765 respond. Vehicle driven off the bridge on highway four. Single male, still with vehicle.”

“Unit 16-765, copy that. On our way.”

“Sir?” Shiro asked quickly.  
“I’m here. I’m here!” He could hear the desperation in the man’s voice.

             He breathed a quick sigh of relief. “Sir, I’ve dispatched a unit to your location. But you have to get out of your vehicle. It will sink. The officers will not be able to get you out in time.”

“But I can’t swim-“

“I know sir, but I promise I will stay with you on the line until they get to you.” Shiro began typing furiously, attempting to transcribe the call. “Can you get out of the vehicle?”

“I don’t know.” There was a pause accompanied by a quick sloshing of water. “The door won’t open all the way, water is coming in faster!”

“Sir, take your seatbelt and use the metal end to crack the window open. When you do, the water will rush in-“

             The call was quiet save for the torrent of water on the other end of the call. Shiro tapped his fingers atop the keys nervously. The man was gave a shuddering breath. “So if I break the window open… I’m going to get pushed inside.”

“Yes.”  
“Can I make it to the surface?”

“Once you break the window, you have to wait until the car completely fills up with water so you can escape. Be careful of the broken glass. You’ll need to hold your breath.” Shiro waited.

“I don’t want to die.”

“Sir,”

“But if I do, can you do something for me?”

“I will try.”

“My fiancé. Can you tell my fiancé? His name is Takashi Shirogane a-and he works for-“

“Keith!?” He exclaimed, restraining the urge to pull away from the desk.

             He glanced to the approaching figure on his left. Pidge. Tears stung at his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. “Keith-“

“Shiro, I’m sorry.” Keith blubbered. He pulled back and covered his eyes. His fingers traveled into his hair and he held tightly to it. Pidge’s small hands were pulling the headset from him. “No, Pidge. Please.”

“Shiro, you can’t help him.”

“I can-“

“You can’t help him when you’re like _this._ Get yourself together!” She urged, pulling the headset on, attempting to adjust the microphone quickly.

             Shiro pushed away from the desk and stood abruptly, putting a spin on the chair. He kicked at Pidge’s garbage can, sending a fair helping of garbage across the darkly carpeted floor.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Pidge’s side of the conversation with his fiancé. Keith had been in the car the whole time. He should have _known_. Keith was on the way to pick him up. He always drove on highway four, said he found the scenery calming. _He can’t swim._

“Pidge, he can’t swim.” Shiro whispered, turning to stare at the back of her head. When she didn’t respond to him he moved forward and grabbed her shoulder. “Keith, can’t swim!” Her hand covered his and attempted to give it a reassuring squeeze. She spoke with a calm voice but not to him. This voice she had used hundreds of times before. One that he had become well acquainted with in the last week. She was consoling Keith. Shiro reached forward and unplugged the headset. The audio of the call sounded disjointed, but he could make out Keith’s panicked voice above the sloshing of water. “-don’t want to die-“

             Pidge cursed and took the plug from him and pushed it back into the computer. She returned her attention to the call attempting to calm Keith. Shiro backed away a half-step. He shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. She turned and looked at him and motioned to his chair. He shook his head again, “Katie-“ He whispered. Pidge only nodded her head. “You told him what to do.” Shiro looked away from her. “He’s smart, Shiro. He’s gonna make it. 16-765 is already almost there. I just pinged them.” She pulled his chair back and pointed, “Sit, you’re swaying worse than a tree in a storm.” Shiro nearly collapsed into the chair. He covered his eyes, attempting to put his mind elsewhere.

             Minutes passed like hours. If Keith said anything over the phone, Pidge hid it well. She turned slowly, staring at him. Shiro’s hands were balled up on his thighs. “They find him? Are they there yet?” She pulled the head set off and ruffled her shoulder length hair. “McClain pulled him out of the river.”

 

 

             He couldn’t remember the drive to the hospital. Not for lack of trying. Shiro’s thoughts were on Keith. How could he not have known it was him? His own fiancé had been on the phone with him in a life or death situation and he couldn’t even discern it was him? What business did Shiro have marrying the man if he couldn’t properly protect him?

             The thoughts tore him up inside. Nausea clawed at his stomach, urging him to stop every few minutes to take a steadying breath. Pidge repeatedly told him it was an anxiety attack. She told him to breathe. He tried, following her breathing instructions. Take a steady breath in for four seconds. Hold it for seven. Release held breath, long and slow, for eight seconds. It was the last part he was having issue with. Shiro remembered frantically pushing the elevator button, praying the doors to close quicker. His world felt as if it was moving in slow motion.

             He glanced through his bleary eyes to Pidge. She was on the phone with Lance McClain; the officer that had pulled Keith from the river. Shiro had worked with McClain on only a handful of occasions, most recently a burglary. Pidge hung up and slid the phone into her front pocket. “Anything?” He pressed.

“Nothing yet. He’s still in the ICU, probably will be until tomorrow.” Shiro nodded slowly, working over his lower lip. Pidge cleared her throat. “Lance won’t leave until he’s sure that Keith is fine. Or at least, until you get there.” Shiro continued his nod, though it felt less genuine now and more like a mechanical response.

             The door dinged and Shiro would have bolted if not for Pidge’s grip on his arm. He winced and leaned away from her. She released him immediately and apologized. “Not our floor. We’re off on seven.” He furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw shut. How could he face him?

“Pidge, I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t face him.”

“What?”

“What kind of man listens to his fiancé on the phone and can’t tell-“

“Shiro-“

“He was begging for help! And all I could do was stick to the fucking script!”

             She turned him to face her. When he refused to look down and meet her gaze she grabbed his jaw. Her fingers were cool against his skin. He looked down into her determined brown eyes. “Stop it. Right now.” In that moment of staring down at a woman a fraction of his size, he was intimidated by her tenacity.

             A year back he first met her on a double kidnapping of her father and brother. When he began the case, pulled in only after a body had shown up, she resented him. He came to represent the ugly reality of what could easily have happened to her family. But when her brother turned up alive and the body one of the kidnappers, she changed her tone. She relied on him then, he needed to rely on her now. He closed his eyes and tried the breathing exercise once more. “I promise you,” Her voice was low, sincere. “One hundred percent, that Keith is not going to ask why you didn’t save him. He’s not going to accuse you of being a shitty excuse of a fiancé.”

             Pidge’s soft hands held his face now. She swiped away the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “He’s going to tell you he loves you.” Shiro slowly took her by the wrists and pulled her hands away. He swallowed the lump in his throat and dried his eyes. She nudged him, motioning to the digital display. They were coming up on seven.

             Shiro hastened toward the nurses station. He stopped just shy of the counter when he saw a detective waiting patiently outside the door of a room. The lean man in jeans and a chocolate brown button down shirt was leaning against the wall. He held his light brown corduroy jacket in the crook of his arm and displayed his badge on his belt proudly. The silver metal easily sparkled in the fluorescent lights. He could only stare. Lance McClain.

             He had started out as a beat cop a few years after Shiro made detective. After a year of dedication and a lot of grunt work, McClain made detective in Robbery and Homicide. The two even had a chance to work with each other a handful of cases. The man was anything if not dedicated to the job. Shiro was moving toward him before he realized it. “McClain-“ He called, earning the chestnut haired man’s attention.

             Lance pushed off of the wall and took only a few steps forward. Shiro could see that Lance was still wet. He extended his hand. Shiro took it gratefully and shook it. “Thank you so much.”

“All part of the job.” He shrugged. “I just happened to be closest unit.” Shiro’s frantic eyes were now looking through the door, catching only a glimpse of the covered feet of who could assume to be his fiancé. “The doctor’s just finishing up. Should be out in a tic.”

             Shiro couldn’t wait. He moved inward, surprising not only Keith, but the doctor. Keith’s steely gray eyes were rimmed red from crying. His nose and cheeks were rosy red. He stared at the gash on his forehead, bandaged already. His head must have hit the steering wheel on the way down the ravine. He’s lucky the car hadn’t flipped. He wanted to speak; he wanted to address Keith’s wounds. Instead, the doctor did it for him.

             She was a tall, graceful woman with caramel colored skin. Her nearly white hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She looked up from her clipboard at him, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not quite finished. I’ll need you to-“

“Can he stay?” Keith croaked. His voice was hoarse. Shiro held his breath, waiting for the doctor’s approval. He dared not speak, for fear of being unable to stop. “Well… alright. We’ll be moving you out of the ICU tomorrow morning. It looks like your lungs didn’t take in too much water and for that we’re thankful.” She cleared her throat and looked to the monitor beside the bed, scrawling down whatever information she found pertinent. “We’ll check again in a few hours just in case there is still some liquid in there, but I’m none too concerned. The ribs, however, they’ll take some time to heal. But you’re a healthy young man. I expect a full recovery within three to six weeks.”

             Keith’s eyes didn’t leave him. Shiro could only return the stare, hardly hearing the doctor’s words. He knew he needed to be paying attention. It was his job. He had to know what was happening. “So don’t worry if you experience discomfort. Your lungs are just trying to get back to normal.” She nodded politely to the both of them and excused herself.

             Shiro couldn’t move. The whole ride here, he had wanted nothing more than to be here. Standing in this very spot… now he could do nothing but stare. “Keith, I-“

“I’m sorry Shiro.” He whispered. Keith’s voice was barely above a whine. “I know that the road can get dangerous when wet, especially during storms like the one we just had. But it’s just habit- I.” Keith shook his head. His eyes had closed and his face contorted as if he were reliving the trauma. Shiro moved forward, taking Keith’s hand in his. The silver ring on his finger glinted dully under the soft lighting of the hospital room. “Detective McClain said that if it hadn’t rained, the river would have been shallower, there would have been little cushion for the car and that I probably would have died.”

“He… said that to you?” A bristle of anger touched at Shiro’s thoughts. What an irresponsible thing to say to a victim. He glanced to the door, finding Pidge quietly speaking with Lance. He would have to press it later.

             “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said, squeezing his hand gently. “I should have known it was you, and I didn’t. The blame is mine.” Keith sighed and rested his head against the plain white pillow. “It was probably best that you didn’t know.” He admitted quietly. Shiro nearly jerked backwards. “If you had- would you have been calm enough? To help me?” His voice was barely audible. Shiro raised his hand and brushed the still wet hair out of his face, holding his palm flat against Keith’s cool skin. He dropped his forehead to rest on Keith’s. “I can’t keep it together now.” Shiro answered. “The moment I knew…” He sighed.

             All Shiro wanted to do was wrap Keith in his arms. He wanted to squeeze him and kiss him, not ever having to let go. That’s what he wanted, but it’s not what he would get. Not only did he have broken ribs, of which broke his already splintering heart, Keith needed his rest. He didn’t need to deal with Shiro’s meltdown. “I’ll let you sleep.” He began to pull away.

“Don’t.” Keith whimpered. The sound cut through Shiro. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be here all night.” He pulled up the stiff cushioned chair. Shiro sat and laced his fingers with Keith’s tightly. “I won’t leave you alone.”

“Better not.” Keith managed a cracked but weak smile.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is now part of a one-shot collection that's strung together to form a coherent plot! Dont forget to hop into the collection to read the others for more plot.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, don't forget to leave a kudos or a comment.... or even more kudos via comments!
> 
> Fun Trivia.  
> Unit 16-765 is actually coded. I researched how units are labeled. The first number is typically the year in which the vehicle was purchased and the last is the number in the fleet. VLD came out in 2016. There are 7 seasons and 65 episodes. So yeah... FUN!
> 
> Also, when Lance refers to the doctor being done is a tic, is an obvious reference to the difference between an Earth second and an Altean tic.


End file.
